


In the End

by 6xqb9u004n



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, End of the World, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6xqb9u004n/pseuds/6xqb9u004n
Summary: It's the end of the world and there's no one you'd rather be with.(Even and Isak's final days during the Apocalypse)





	In the End

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Ray Bradbury's "Last Night of the World"

Isak wakes to the sound of Even’s boots. He walks in, cheeks rosy from the cold, and tosses him a small paper bag.

There’s a croissant inside. Tiny and dense-looking but a croissant nonetheless.

“This must’ve cost a fortune.”

Even’s smile falters and he lies down on the bed next to Isak. “We won’t be needing it much longer,” he says softly, fiddling with the zipper of Isak’s hoodie.

“Oh.” 

He clears his throat. “Some people in the bakery were talking about it.”

The croissant feels heavy in Isak’s hand. He tears it in half, giving Even the larger piece. “How soon?” He chews slowly. It’s been months since he’s eaten fresh food. It’s almost weird not tasting the hint of metal he’s grown accustomed to after eating nothing but canned food.

Even shrugs. “Day or two.” A pause. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to feel warm.”

“You should eat that.”

* * *

It’s August 12th and the temperature in Oslo is -20 degrees Celsius. The sun is bright but useless and in the afternoon, storm clouds will fill the sky and dump half a meter of snow onto the city. It’s worse in other places. At least here they can still go outside. Though, that will probably be changing soon.

They lie in bed, stomachs full of bread, facing each other, not talking. They don’t have to. The past three years have been nothing but talking.

They argued a lot at first. Isak, brain wired like a scientist’s, refused to believe any of it. The same Isak who believed in parallel universes couldn’t believe this one was coming to an end, Even had pointed out during one particular argument. 

Isak’s anger dissolved into laughter after that. “It’s absurd, isn’t it?” 

“But entirely real,” Even had replied somberly.

That was during the second winter, when July arrived and still, the city (the entire country and the whole world) remained under a thick blanket of snow. 19 consecutive months of bitter cold and blistering wind and icy snow. The New Ice Age.

It’s the third year now and the last, if the stories are to be believed (and everyone does). Isak wonders what their friends are doing.What they’re thinking. How they’re feeling. Are they as just as miserable? Magnus used to joke about one last party filled with more booze and drugs than their bodies could handle, but it upset Vilde and he never mentioned it again. 

Isak thinks of Jonas, who’s probably with his family doing something utterly mundane like playing a board game. He can’t help but think of his mother, who passed before it all started, and how she was right in the end.It wasn’t on Christian terms, but the apocalypse she spoke of so frequently was finally upon them. 

He thinks of Even’s parents, who treated him with such kindness and love, and it hurts knowing how much Even misses them. Take care of each other, they instructed him when they spoke, not knowing it would be their last. And Isak promised them he would.

“I’ll miss this,” Even says finally, breaking the silence. He snakes his arms around Isak’s waist and pulls him closer. He lets his head rest against Isak’s chest.

Isak runs his fingers through Even’s hair absentmindedly. He doesn’t like Even’s tone. It’s too serious, too final. “Can’t miss things when you’re dead,” Isak tries to joke, but the words fall flat. It’s a lie anyways. He'll miss everything.

The stupid things the most. Like bickering over who’s used up all the hot water again (Even, always Even) and grocery shopping on Sunday evenings or waiting for the tram and spending an entire night in the library studying for an upcoming biology test. He’ll miss the feeling of wearing warm clothes fresh out of the dryer and eating kebab at 2am in the morning after a night of drinks.

He won’t miss Even; he’ll miss the weight of his body next to him, the way his eyes crinkle and shine when he laughs, and waking up to find him making those disgusting cheese toasts loaded with cardamom that he insists they eat for nostalgia’s sake.

He’ll miss fucking Even and getting fucked by Even and kissing him. Kissing him to say I love you and hello and thank you and goodbye. Kissing him because they’re bored on a Tuesday night and there’s no better way to put off doing the dishes than to lie on the couch and make out lazily.

“I’ll miss you too,” Even hums, because he knows even without Isak saying anything. He’ll miss that the most he thinks. 

* * *

The next day, they decide to watch the sun set. If what Even heard in the bakery the other day is true, it’s sure to be their last.

They sit huddled on a park bench, arguing over what it means when the stories say a wolf will swallow the sun.

“Of course he won’t swallow it _literally_. How would that even be possible!”

“Isak, look around you. How is _any_ of this possible. I’m telling you, any minute now we’re gonna see that furry bastard in the sky and he’ll eat the sun like a fucking grape.” 

They laugh, even though it hurts their lungs to breathe in the cold air. 

The sun is starting to set now: the blueness fading, slowly replaced by a streaks of orange and red. The sky is free of storm clouds today, and Isak is grateful the universe has granted them a clear sky to enjoy one final sunset.

“Look it’s setting. No wolf,” Isak says, breathless. He glances over at Even and sees there are tears on his face as well. Watching Even, awestruck and emotional, is more enchanting than any sunset could ever be.

“Isak, I swear if you don't start watching this goddamn sunset — ” 

Smiling, Isak returns his gaze to the sky. Half the sun is beyond the horizon already, gone and never to be seen again. Isak takes off his glove, grimacing when his skin hits the cold, and Even does the same. They lace their fingers together; it’s one of the stupider things they’ve done, taking off their gloves in an icy tundra, but neither of them can imagine it happening any other way.

They don’t speak, not even as the sun creeps below the horizon then disappears completely. They hurry to get home while it’s still twilight, before the darkness sets in. 

That night, there will be no stars in the sky, no moon, and the sun will fail to rise in the morning.

It’s then, when everything in the sky has been devoured, that Ragnarök begins.

* * *

It's not as bad as the imagined.

They wake up to heat and light. 

It’s warm, so warm their blankets have been kicked off in the middle of the night, and cozy almost, a feeling so foreign that Isak briefly wonders if the past three years have been a dream and he’s just now waking up.

But Even sits in bed next to him, eating from a tin of canned peaches. “Morning,” Even mumbles through bites. “The tap is working,” he adds excitedly, syrup dripping down his chin. “The fires must be melting the ice in the water tank. Still cold though.”

Isak swipes a peach from Even, taking the sticky fruit between his fingers. “Fires, huh. No earthquakes though?”

“Not here. Maybe not yet. Who knows.”

“So now we wait, I guess?”  


Even sets his can down on the floor, wiping his hands on sheets. On any other day, Isak would complain about Even’s messiness, but he supposes that doesn’t matter much anymore. Even climbs atop him, a knee on each side of his hips.

“Listen, you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna sit around doing nothing just waiting for it all to be over.” He lowers his weight onto Isak, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt. 

“What do you suggest we do,” Isak asks as Even slips a hand under Isak’s shirt, palm pressed against his ribcage. Even leans down and kisses Isak, who’s eager to prop himself up. His arms wrap around Even’s torso, gripping him as to steady himself, as his mouth nips and sucks at Even’s neck. Hickeys are rather juvenile at their age, and most days he resists the urge to spot Even’s neck with splotches of red and blue and purple. Today is not one of those days. He latches his mouth firmly where he knows Even is most ticklish until he’s certain that more than a few blood vessels have popped.

“All mine,” Isak manages to say between kisses and Even responds right on script, “all yours.” 

They’ve come a long way since the first time they had sex, back when Isak kicked out his friends out of the kollektiv without so much as a goodbye. His heart raced in his chest and he was worried he was going to puke once he started tasting acid in his mouth. And all at once Even fell to his knees and tugged at his pants, waiting and making sure. Isak can’t remember what he said after that. He remembers only the feeling of Even’s warm, wet mouth wrapping around him. His hand resting on top of Even’s soft, soft hair, his eyes squeezed shut. He lasted about thirty seconds that night, but Even was kind about it, kind about everything.

Like when they sat on the edge of Isak’s bed, moments after Isak had been confronted with Even’s dick for the first time and freaked out having no idea what to do. 

“It’s okay, it’s not like I knew what I was doing,” Even had reassured him, nudging Isak's shoulder with his head, pressing a kiss to his arm. 

“I just want to make you feel good.” 

“Don’t worry, you will.”

It’s the same now as it was back then. 

* * *

“You could probably take a shower, if you want.”

Isak shakes his head. His hair is damp, his body sticky from sweat and cum. Little bits of Even’s DNA all over him. “I like feeling you on me,” he says simply and Even kisses him sweetly.

So they skip the shower, but decide on nice clothes — the clean ones they’ve been saving for the occasion. Jeans for the both of them, and a blue button down for Even (the one he had purchased on their first trip to Morocco) and a plain, white t-shirt for Isak.

“Jeans were probably a bad idea,” Even notes, as they peer out the window. There’s fire in the distance; hot scorching flames as far as the eye can see. Flames that stretch so high that the thick plumes of smoke are barely visible. The glass is hot to the touch and flecks of ash manage to make their way into the room. 

“Probably,” Isak echoes and swipes his finger along the window sill. Buildings. Trees. People. Pets. All reduced to ash. The world around them set on fire. 

* * *

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“I know.”

“If you want, I have some Valium. You’ll be floating in no time.”

“It’s okay. I want to be here when it happens.” 

* * *

The earthquakes come eventually. The ground rumbles and shakes, and they know it’s time.

They head to the roof, racing each other up the stairs, fooling around on the landings like they’re back in high school. They’re wheezing with laughter by the time they reach the top, their sides in splits. 

Outside, the air is thick with smoke. Fires continue to rage on, ravaging everything in its path. It hasn’t reached them yet, but it will. 

They sit on the ledge, legs dangling above the ground. 

“What do you think’s happening to the others?” Even asks. For the first time, there's worry in his voice. "They're okay, right? It's just us, right?"

Isak takes a moment. "They're fine, all of them. They're doing just about everything and anything you could think of.”

“Like starting a family?”

“Yeah, and having careers and growing old together. We've probably even been to space. And I bet in some, we haven’t even met yet. But we will. We always do.”

“And they’re happy?”

“Baby, we’ll be always happy if we have each other.”

“God, you’re corny.”

“Love you too.”

* * *

A storm arrives, all lightning and thunder but no rain.

“That’s them, isn’t it? Fighting?"

There’s bitterness in Isak’s words. A war between gods, spilling over into the human realm. It’s not fair. 

Even nods. “They say two people will be chosen to repopulate the earth. Reckon we’ve got a shot? I don’t know if we’d be any good at it, but I'd be willing to try if you are.”

Isak smiles. It’s the end of the fucking world, and he's making jokes.

There’s water near their feet now. The world is sinking. Maybe the seas are rising. Either way, death by water is preferable to fire.

So Isak stands, dusting off his pants. Then he holds out his hand for Even to take. They stand together, and they count to three, and then they jump.

Their first kiss was underwater. So is their last.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if I completely fucked up Norse mythology.


End file.
